A Day of Nymphadora
by storylover1BL
Summary: Soon after Tonks finishes her Auror Training she meets Remus. But at first she doesn't see him as the person he is, to her he's just a guy, living in minor poverty with a chip in his side a mile wide. She doesn't blame him. A 'Tonks centric fic' set ever so slightly AU- where Tonks meets Remus before The Order of the Phoenix.
1. Just your average day

**Hi, this is my first fanfic about Remus and Tonks. Its set before PoA and after Sirius is up in Azkaban, a few months after Tonks has finished her Auror training. Any reviews would be greatly appreciated as I'm trying to improve my writing style.**

A Day in the Life of Nymphadora

PART ONE

I was flung sloppily over my small desk in the Auror office. It was a quiet evening on a Friday night and not many Aurors were around. My report sat in front of me, it was almost finished. I felt like I'd just spend a week on the Live-In auror training camp with Mad-Eye Moody, my mentor. Those days weren't far enough gone in my opinion.

In truth it wasn't any better. I had almost been killed by an unregistered werewolf at the full moon; and then spent the night chasing said werewolf around muggle London. There had been several casualties. It was horrific. As if that wasn't enough I'd had to make my way back to Auror HQ and write a four foot report in meticulous detail.

Nothing like a day in the life of Nymphadora Tonks, is there? I take a deep breath and try to clear my head. It has been a manic past day to say the least.

It had all began when I found out that my work partner Garwait Robards was absent from work, ill. Robards is the stern, experienced Auror my boss Scrimpmor said I was best tied to. Robards wasn't pleased to find a clumsy, newly trained Auror assigned to him. But there was nothing he could do without looking unprofessional, which he would rather have cut his fingers off one by one that appear.

Anyway, we were investigating a series petit crime in the East End of muggle London. Someone had been pickpocketing witches and wizards wands on the crowded streets and I decided rather than waste the day doing paperwork I should go out and have interviews with some suspects which lived in the area.

This went well all day, until I came across a Bernard Fletcher. He has two recorded offences for drunken behaviour and risking the Statue of Secrecy on his card. Nothing I couldn't handle, so I thought. That was up until he transformed into a werewolf while I was in his run-down bottom floor apartment. I was so shocked at his sudden change that I hesitated for long enough for him to break out.

Alaster 'Mad-Eye' Moody would have been thoroughly ashamed of my lack of 'constant vigilance' had he been in attendance. When he hears about it, I will hear about it from him. After all three years training it feels like I failed him. I didn't react quickly enough. Because of my two people died, muggles that had no idea what was about to set onto them or what to do. Because of me a young wizard now carries the curse which will mean people around will judge him because of what he is. My fault!

A deep, calm voice calls out from across the room. "Don't beat yourself up about it too much, Nymphadora." I look up quickly, realising only then that I'd had my head in my hands all the time I was thinking.

Auror Shaklebolt was watching me from his desk. Which was surprising, considering that he rarely spoke to me, but often seemed to observe. I often got the feeling that he was somehow assessing me, but I'd never had any evidence to prove it, so I never mentioned it. I knew why, besides. Aurors weren't too keen on a colleague having Black family roots, even disowned ones.

"Why do you care?" I replied tersely, pushing my awful mousy brown hair out of my face in a defiant gesture. I stared into his placid, dark face. He looked both bemused and concerned which was worrying.

"Well Garwait has been informed. He promptly took my head off because I let you go off without a work partner. And you look terrible, your hairs gone back to its natural colour and your clothes are covered in blood." His voice was slow and easy to catch in my exhausted, overwhelmed state. I gave a slight shudder of tiredness.

"I know." I say disjointedly: looking down at my torn and bloodied clothes. I'm looking forward to being reprimanded like a child by so many people now, so much! My senior work-partner will want to tell me off, as will my mentor Mad-Eye, not forgetting my boss and my Mother! I scrawl the last few sentences on my work stating the lone surviving victim's condition- 'now a fully-fledged werewolf' and that the werewolf responsible was currently being detained and scratching my name out at the bottom.

Wistfully I wondered if I would be allowed to go home, the report being sent magically to Scrimpmor's desk as requested. I couldn't stop trembling; I wondered if this is what being 'in shock' was like. Dawlish threw me a condescending look which I ignored in account of the fact that I really did not care at this point. Darian Holt was watching me carefully. I stood up and walked shakily over to him.

I fall over things at the best of times; it was almost a miracle I didn't trip on my way over to him. But I don't think I did. He smiled at me graciously and put his hand on my muddy sleeve (as though to reassure himself I wasn't going to faint).

"You need to be going home, Tonks." He told me gently. I nodded. I knew that.

"How are you getting home?" Darian asks slowly.

"I go home by apparition." I respond blankly.

"Can you use the floo network instead?" He presses me moderately. He does seem so grandfatherly when he's concerned. Then again the only person that's been in the department as long as he has is Mad-Eye himself so he's probably shepherded half the Aurors in the past decade home at some point. This makes me feel less embarrassed. I realise that he's still waiting for me to reply.

"No. I live in a muggle flat, it's not connected." I explain, without feeling. I'm not sure I have enough energy to put expression into my words.

"You can't apparate on your own. We've suffered more than enough splinched Aurors in the past month." Darian decides. He looks around and appears to grasp the fact that the Auror HQ is close to empty. Dawlish had bobbed away already. This leaves him, Shaklebolt, Scrimpmor and Proudfoot. Proudfoot looks as though he would need a chisel to detach him from his desk and Darian is obviously halfway through something.

Shaklebolt comes over with his smooth diplomatic expression he regularly dons. Subtly he whispers something in Darian's ear, Darian nods.

"I'll take you back, Tonks." He says in his easy way. I would usually consider his even slower than normal tone to be patronising, but I can't think straight, so I don't object.

Shaklebolt doesn't ask me where I live, but I end up in my sitting-room at any rate. He doesn't raise an eyebrow at the ruckus in which I live (or at my taste at interior design, which most people do), nor the fact that I say nothing. I just stumble my way over to the sofa and curl up where I am. I don't care that my flat door is open, or that I've needed the toilet for over six hours. Everything stops for sleep.

PART TWO

When I awake the next morning I find a short letter on a piece of neatly folded parchment. The hand is bold and tidy and fits Shaklebolt perfectly.

_**Dear Nymphadora Tonks**_

_**Please take a shower and change into clean clothes. Eat something and recover well enough to be back in the office at 9 am as Scrimpmor wants to talk to you. **_

_**Yours sincerely **_

_**Auror **__**Kingsley Shaklebolt**_

With a yawn I fling myself off the couch. I fell hugely aware that I am in a mess. I may be fired and was almost bitten by a werewolf. Because of me two people died, one more will live with a curse. My fault! Additionally, but I decide not as importantly my hair is a dishevelled clump, and I am coated in a mixture of blood and mud and hopefully nothing much worse. I do feel better than yesterday, however.

I arrive early to work feeling vaguely optimist, thanks to a long, hot shower. The fact it's entirely my fault weighs heavily, but I no longer feel like I'm about to collapse into a heap on the floor, so much.

Robards is back, he looks like death warmed over. His face looks like concrete and he's flopped ungainly in his seat, rather than sat upright as normal. I come up to him nervously.

"Are you alright?" I ask concernedly. This seems to be too much for him to handle however.

"No, Tonks. I'm not bloody alright!" He snaps waspishly. Or maybe he's like a bear with a bad head, I've yet to decide. "You were almost eaten by a bloody werewolf and you had Darian so bloody worried that he almost sent you off to St. Mungos hospital!"

I take a step back. This is not the Garwait Robards I know. The Robards I know has self-control up to his eyeballs. The Auror office falls silent and people start looking over. We both blush, making a scene in front of the entire department wasn't what either of us wanted.

We both stand like statues. I get several mocking, or sympathetic looks. I ignore them and focus on Robards.

"May I have some of your time, Auror Tonks?" A cold, harsh voice behind me asks sardonically. If time was truly mine then there'd be no way at all that I'd be giving any of it to Scrimpmor but I have no way to refuse my boss any of my time so I follow him weakly.

Scrimpmor's office is bright and spacious. I stand in front of his desk and try not to twiddle my fingers as I wait in tense anticipation. Scrimpmor's face was as hard as granite and twice as unreadable.

That was until he glared at me and slumped down in his chair.

"Now where shall I begin, Auror Tonks? You went out without a work partner and interviewed criminals in East-End muggle London. You failed to recognise the signs of a werewolf afore a transformation. Nor did you react quickly enough." Scrimpmor lectured.

"Two muggles have died and your only Saving Grace is that the young wizard did not." He continued, with an irritated sigh. I gulped. "That being said, he is now a full werewolf and not at all happy about it." He continued. I wriggled slightly in discomfort.

"You did, however succeed in not being bitten, yourself I presume?" He confirmed. I shook my head and he continued. "That is lucky for you. IF you had then you would no longer have a job, as well as a liked species."

I grimaced at his brutal tone and prejudice words. There was something which resembled iron in his voice. "So what I want you to do is to go out into the East-End muggle London and visit registered werewolves in a radius of say twenty miles of Mr Fletcher's apartment and confirm where they were at the full moon before last, and what precautions they put in place." Scrimpmor instructed in a monotone.

"To find out who bit him!" I say, realising what he's saying, and also the fact I'm not fired.

"That's exactly right! If you find anything suspicious or feel endangered call the Werewolf Capture Unit." His voice took on a metal-lined tone again and, there seemed something colder than normal there.

"And take a partner. You're dismissed!" I thanked him gratefully and wished him a good day, and then I trotted off briskly.

I was feeling so happy, things seemed to be picking up that I didn't notice where I was going until I ran straight into Philip Wood. Philip was a sporty, young auror who only qualified a couple of years before me.

Philip looked at me in surprise, his eyes widening at my purple hair (the colour my victory mood had chosen) and wide smile. I fell forward over his feet almost habitually, expecting to be caught or have a hand lent to steady me. It didn't happen. I landed on the hard floor, smacking my nose on it. Wood stepped over me and carried on walking like nothing had happened.

Thanks a lot Wood; I thought as I gingerly felt my nose. Blood was running out of his at an astounding rate. I felt a soft hand on my arm. I looked up fuzzily with shock to find two people watching me with concern.

"Tonks, what did you do this time?" Shaklebolt asked, mildly amused. The person next to him passed me a tissue. I accepted it, relieved and wrapped it around my poor nose.

"Well, thanks a lot Philip-Bloody-Wood!" I fumed angrily. Shaklebolt's companion gave a low chuckle. He was a young man about my age with thick brown hair and high cheekbones and a warm smile.

"I believe that you are the bloody one at present, Miss Tonks." He said with a gentle, accented voice. I gave him a sheepish smile and continued mopping at my nose.

"Indeed. You'd think if you saw a fellow Auror who was about to smash her face on the ground that you'd lend her a hand. Wouldn't you?" I mumbled, humiliated. Shaklebolt has look of laughter on his placid face which I don't appreciate, but the other man looks shocked.

"Tonks, may I present to you Cassidy Edmond, a newly qualified Romanian Auror." I nod and mumble something along the lines of welcome. Cassidy nods shyly in return.

"I presume that it was the charming Auror Wood who is responsible for the state of your face." Shaklebolt says calmly. It wasn't a question.

"Well… I was the one who tripped over his feet, but he certainly didn't try and stop me from falling." I say wryly. "You'd think he'd want to show off his Quiditch reflexes after all."

Shaklebolt ignores the last part of my comment and fixes his eyes on mine in a paternal gesture that considering the differences in our complexion and temperament looks rather odd, but he somehow pulls off. "I will endeavour to mention something about it to Mr Wood when he reports to me later. Now however we need to meet up with Auror Robards."

We traipse down to the main Auror office area. Both men watch me carefully like they expect me to trip and smash my face on the floor some more at any point. I do not.

Robards is slumped at his desk; the expression on his face is one of utter misery which I had never seen him wear before. Shaklebolt seems to grasp how unwell he is quickly enough.

"Garwait, what on earth are you doing out of bed?" He enquires quietly. Robards coughs roughly and begins to explain the entire new werewolf case to Shaklebolt. I move over to my desk, next door to his to let them talk and Cassidy follows me.

"Would you like me to fix your face?" Cassidy asked politely. I nodded and fixed my gaze on Darian who was working on something on the horizon. There was a numbing tingling feeling on my nose for a second; once it had stopped I looked up to see him staring into my eyes. I held my breath.

"Your appearance keeps changing, Miss Tonks." He told me amicably, a look of fascination on his face, but not the yucky look of calculation younger blokes tend to give me once they find out about my metamorphmagus abilities.

"I know. I'm a metamorphmagus." I say, with less enthusiasm than normal. He nods.

"Hey: Edmond, Tonks would you come over here? We have a suggestion for you." Shaklebolt calls us over. We move over to Robards desk obediently, too used to being commanded in training to think about refusing.

"I have work which needs doing and Garwait is going home: but Tonks needs someone to go out with her on a case: AFTER WHAT HAPPENED the day before yesterday. Edmond, I propose you go out with her as her work partner whilst Garwait is ill." Shaklebolt all but decides, somehow phrasing it to sound like he is offering Cassidy a choice. He is not giving Cassidy a choice.

PART THREE

With Shaklebolt's tidy plans for us we got on and went to the Researching Hall. There I described the case to Cassidy. It didn't work very well, though.

"So, I was interviewing this suspect, a Mr Bernard Fletcher when he transformed into a werewolf." I carried on casually. Cassidy was not so casual, at the word 'werewolf' (or maybe it was the word 'transform') he had a coughing fit, which lasted several minutes. When he came out of his tissue his face was pale and strained and I was overly worried.

"Cassidy: we will be working together; we will rely on each other. Please tell me why you don't like werewolves." I said, gently. He was watching me carefully. I keep my face open and after a second he relents at his watchfulness a little.

Gone is the humorous, kindly Auror who cared about clumsy Newly Qualified Aurors not being smashing themselves up on floors. Replacing him was a pale, shaking man incapable of proper speech. Its pitiful what your secret fears do to you.

"My… sister..." He chokes out limply. That says it all, really. People with family connections to any other 'species' are rarely keen on them. Although personally I consider all 'sub-species' (vampire, werewolf, giant) to be people: so long as they think of themselves like people and act like people. It's the same with people and the 'metamorphmagus species', you can meet suspicion and prejudice as a shape-shifter by those that don't consider you the same as themselves.

"I understand, but do you understand if you want to swap cases Shaklebolt will want a little more detail." I say quietly. He nods listlessly and we sit in silence for a bit as he recovers his emotions and I flip through a magically enhanced search map to find all registered werewolves in at twenty mile (werewolves can travel a long way at the full moon, but if one was in muggle London then it would probably be spotted sooner rather than later) radius to Fletcher's apartment.

It appears that East-End muggle London isn't the most popular place for registered werewolves to hang out. There is only one werewolf in twenty miles, a guy called Remus J. Lupin. I send off for his file and turn to face Cassidy again.

"There's only one it the radius for us to investigate. Think you can handle that?" I ask hopefully. I am not disappointed.

I look at the folder in my hand. It's slim and spotless (which is a very good sign if you want an easy job). When I open it, I find out that it's basically a folder about Mr R J Lupin's lycanthropy, there's no mention of criminal activity. I skim through it quickly, despite the years of training it still feels like I'm invading someone's privacy when I go through files.

I take the important facts to mind, logging them in my short-term memory. Bitten as a small child, parents searching for a cure after bite (never finding one, there is no cure for lycanthropy), attending Hogwarts with Headmaster's permission, got good grades but cannot keep a job due to discrimination against 'his species', still attends yearly registration, is currently practicing as a test- subject for the homing of the Wolfsbane potion, stays locked up with recommended anti-werewolf protection and spells at the full moon.

That being that, we set off to the stated address. A single sorry fact comes to mind, it's really not a convenient time to visit a werewolf, two days after the full-moon. I wince, beside me Cassidy is trembling. We go up one flight of decrepit stairs, then a second. Everything smells damp and old. It's nothing like the cheap block of flats I live in, it's much more unpleasant.

We reach number 38 and I knock lightly on the door, bracing myself for anything to come. I link my arm around Cassidy's to hide the fact that he's shaking like a leaf. Looks like I'll be in charge of this interview. We wait several minutes in absolute tension before we hear sounds of movement. I hold my breath.

"Just a minute." A hoarse voice calls out, breaking the silence. Lupin doesn't sound unfriendly, which is a relief. We wait several more minutes before the door slowly swings open. A thin, exhausted looking man peers out. He has floppy sandy hair and mild eyes. He does not look happy, clearly clocking up our official Auror cloaks and my badge clearly displayed.

"Mr R. J. Lupin?" I confirm as the textbook states you should. He looks irritated but gives a nod

.

"We're sorry to be here at such an inconvenient time, but we have a few questions for you, if you will." I continue, glancing at Cassidy who looks like a man terrified out of his witts (which he probably is, personally I don't think Lupin is that scary). Lupin steps back wordlessly. I make my way through the small doorway and disaster strikes in the form of a small step. I stumble and fall directly forward onto Lupin. I find myself lying awkwardly on top of his thin figure and shake myself. I pull myself up quickly and offer Lupin a hand. Lupin looks puzzled, and suspicious at my assistance, but lets me pull him off the floor. He winces and gives a low shudder of pain.

"I'm sorry. My middle name ought to have been clumsy." I apologise sincerely. He nods, his pale face giving a warm smile.

"Doesn't matter, I'll live I'm sure. You have a scrape on your neck, did you know?" His voice is casual, but quiet like it is rarely heard.

"No, I didn't. But I'm not surprised; I will explain in a minute and get Cassidy to give it a once- over." I say as I rub the graze with my hand. "He has a handy nose- mending spell on him."

We go through into a sparsely furnished, but clean sitting room cum kitchen cum dining room. Cassidy gives a small squeak as he comes in and as much as I feel for the guy it takes it one step too far.

"Cassidy Edmond." I say, shaking him gently. "Pull yourself together, can I at least have a state of professionalism for an interview." Lupin watches with tired amusement and sits down on a worsted dining room chair. I take the second and turn to face him; Cassidy is hovering at my shoulder like the pest he's acting so I pull the third chair up and gesture harshly for him to sit.

PART FOUR

"He doesn't like werewolves, right?" Lupin says wryly. I keep eye-contact and my body language open to try make up for Cassidy's behaviour.

"I believe there was an accident in the past." I say openly "Now I will explain why we're here, and then I'd like to ask you a few questions. You aren't in trouble; we're just trying to sort a few things out. Is that alright, Mr Lupin?" I say politely. He nods.

"Oh… I forgot to say, I am N. Tonks and this is Cassidy Edmond, who is a Romanian transfer." I add.

Lupin looks at me with amusement. "Yeah, okay. Matter of interest, why do I get to know Edmond's first name, but not yours?" His voice is slightly scratchy, but I put it down to the closeness to the full moon. I roll my eyes.

"I hate my first name, if you must know- it's Nymphadora." I say, trying to keep the atmosphere light and unoppressive, which is hard considering Cassidy's conduct. Lupin gives me a mild smirk.

"I apologise for my partner. He wasn't the Auror that took on the case. My normal work-partner fell ill at an inconvenient time." I have to say, giving Cassidy a 'get a grip' glare. Lupin nods.

"It's hard to convince everyone that not all werewolves are bad, especially when _some_ of my race keep trying to prove that view." He says levelly.

"I come up against that sort of thing, sometimes. As a metamorphmagus: I mean." I admit; changing my hair from the blond I'm sporting to a bright blue. He doesn't gaze at me like a fascinating museum piece, nor do his eyes light up with less scholastic thoughts although he really isn't that old so I keep going. I explain about the surprise in my last interview and he nods, he can probably see where I'm going.

"I know what you're going to say, Miss Tonks. And I can tell you that I've been in the secure clinical research facility, in the Ministry of Magic, for the past six full moons, for practice of the Wolfsbane poison… sorry potion." He says smoothly. I nod and doodle down a few notes.

"Would I be able to see the place you spend full moons when not at the facility?" I ask as I look down my list of queries and things I need to check out. "My boss, Scrimpmor wants us to check the basics as well." He nods and leads me through one of the two doors at the other side of the room; Cassidy follows me like a duckling to the mother duck which is unmeasurably annoying. I find myself in a small, clean bedroom, I look at the meagre, but clearly cared for furniture dubiously which doesn't look like it's been kept in the same environment as a werewolf at full moon. Lupin seems to guess my thoughts.

"Yeah, I remove my stuff from the room the day before the full moon and put in in the sitting room." He explains lightly. I nod and doodle down the room credentials- small, windowless. Then I throw Lupin an apologetic look and walk over to tap on the walls to see what they're made up of, brick walls are preferred to plaster or clapboard, the wall was brick so I noted it down too. As I walked back to Lupin's tall slim figure I tripped over Cassidy who had followed me the small distance from my original spot to the wall. I glared at him, discrimination (or obvious fear) in interviews is something I hate.

"Cassidy, I recall being told to bring a partner, not a shadow. Now move!" I say briskly, but my voice isn't as harsh as my words. Nonetheless Cassidy Edmond winced. I turned my attention back to Lupin.

"All four walls are brick/ breezeblock?" I confirm, he gives me a nod. I smile and look at my checklist. When I hear his quiet, throaty voice again it gives me a surprise.

"Are you sure you don't want to check them anyway? After all, you don't want The Ministry having to rely on the word of a criminal half-breed, do you?" The bitterness in his voice is probably well- founded, but Cassidy gives a squeak of horror anyway. So I decide to go for a cheerful, honest approach.

PART FIVE

"I think you've been listening to too much Umbridge, Mr Lupin. And may I remind you that you have never been associated with any criminal activity, meaning you are no more criminal than Auror Edmond or I." I say briskly, but carefully.

"But I am criminal for existing as a lycanthrope." Lupin bites back. I shake my head vigorously.

"No, Sir. If that is the case then I am also for being a metamorphmagus. Just because certain oblivious people walk through life thinking that you're different because of a quirk, it doesn't make you, or me any less of a person for those that walk through life with their eyes open wide enough to see." I return quietly. He looks abashed, and rather embarrassed.

I make my way through to his front door in silence, it doesn't take long. I have Cassidy at my heels like a jumpy terrier, he goes out and leaves me quickly and I am about to turn around and bid Mr Lupin a formal goodbye when I feel a light hand on my arm. I turn around. He is facing me awkwardly.

"You… you're right. I'm sorry for snapping… I'm all tetchy and sore from the full moon and… it's so rare to find someone with the 'right' ideas on lycanthropy." Acknowledges Lupin hesitantly. The look on his lined face is one of vulnerability, not a look that encourages the hasty goodbye that the Auror office promotes. I pat his arm gently in a friendly gesture and give him a wry smile.

"I agree that more people need to know the joys of a live and let live philosophy to life. But coming from the daughter of a Black and a muggleborn, that's not so surprising, is it?" I say casually. A look of dawning realisation comes onto his face which makes me worry slightly.

"I know where I know your name!" He exclaims. "You're Andromeda and Ted's daughter. I used to babysit when I was a boy sometimes."

I feel myself blush. My heritage is now known and my young age revealed.

"Fancy me forgetting the name Nymphadora!" Lupin mumbles. I groan and roll my eyes.

"Don't use that name." I return

"How are they? Andromeda and Ted, I mean. Are they well?" He questions scrupulously.

"Yeah, they're both great." I respond automatically. Something inside my head clicks, I cough in disbelief that I hadn't realised it earlier, me being an Auror as well. It was disgraceful of me to not figure it out, or even to link the Rem Lupin that my Mum used to talk about, and then wonder about to Remus J. Lupin, werewolf and suspect. Lupin is watching me with surprise.

"I didn't realise. They call you Rem. My Mum used to talk about you, she said after _Sirius_." I scowl at my shoes. "Was found out she thought you'd misunderstood her, that you weren't welcome anymore. But she's been worrying about you disappearing for years." I grasp out loud. Lupin is watching me still, now with wariness mixed in with his features.

"You could erm… contact them, you know. They'd be thrilled to hear from you again." I say cautiously. Lupin looks the same as before, but his eyes are shining in happiness but he seems too cautious to say anything at all.

I realise that we're both stood at his door when I hear Cassidy call in a tortured voice for me to please come, soon. I clear my throat to detach myself from the awkwardness of the air around me and reassure him in at less personal tone that he's no longer under any suspicion; I say goodbye and walk away.

Back to another day of being Nymphadora, I think mockingly to myself. I pace down to street with Cassidy keeping up with me that is until I hear a hoarse call. I stop and Cassidy bashes into me.

Lupin is down the street, his face lit up and the tiredness hidden temporarily. "I think I will!" He yells. I give him a smile and walk on. Perhaps I've managed to one good thing in amongst all the stumbling, I ponder. If that is the case then that's made the last few days of agony worth it somehow.

~Fin~

**Reviews would be massively appreciated, thanks for reading.**


	2. A Trip to St Mungo's

**Hi, this is the second chapter. Hopefully you'll notice how much my grammar has improved. All credit for this goes to MusicalFANtasy for beta-ing this chapter brilliantly. Thank you to all reviewer and just reader's in general.**

Once again I was given a case that none of my senior officers wanted. From petty crime in the East End of London to a boring, yet hazardous job of chase- as the least experienced Auror in the office I got all the leftover jobs. These were either incredibly tedious or they meant that you were likely to end up in the Spell- Damaged ward in St. Mungos: or dead. I blamed it on the fact that I had been a qualified Auror for only four months and consequently I didn't have the authority to go to the toilet without asking, let alone start turning down cases and paperwork.

This time I had to capture hardened criminal Arnold Tyson with the helping hand of two willing, but slightly oblivious Hit- Wizards. Ralf was my age and height with dull brown hair that framed his lively features while Andy was very tall and rigid. Frankly, Andy seemed insulted at being put under my command, considering he'd been working for the Ministry for the past six years.

I had already briefed Andy and Ralf about Tyson's obsession with homemade spells to cause long-term damage to the victim. The criminal had already been thoroughly investigated by a more practiced Auror so all we had to do was apprehend him from his residence.

With my usual talent, I apparated directly into a large brown puddle on the street outside Tyson's house, Ralf laughed cheerfully at me and my maladroit luck, but obligingly offered me a hand. I spent a few minutes clearing the mud off my cloak and robes whilst Andy eyed me warily, like he thought I'd fall over my own feet and ruin the entire mission. I resented his scepticism of my abilities- I might be clumsy, but I was still the protégé of the renowned Alastor Moody.

Once I'd disarmed the alarm wards on the Tyson residence and set up an Anti- Apparition barrier around the house we burst in. Tyson ran out into the cushy floral hall where we were stood and I heard the swish of his wand being drawn. His dark eyebrows knitted together with intrigue as he looked at me and I drew my wand, behind me Ralf and Andy follow suit. I shot a Stunning Curse towards Tyson quickly, hoping to catch him off guard, but he was prepared and deflected it easily. Next Tyson shot back a body-bind curse which flew past and hit Ralf with worrying aim. I could have shouted at him for not using a shield charm, but I had bigger things on my mind.

It was me and Andy versus Tyson. The battle had begun. I felt the adrenalin begin to flow through my veins as the curses begun to fly. So far Tyson hadn't risked using any Unforgivable curses and Andy was holding his own, especially compared to Ralf. I blocked a stinging curse swiftly and sent back a silencing curse, which had no effect. Tyson cast back a blasting curse, directed at Andy. Andy put up his shielding charm slightly late and his face was cut with the flying glass from the shattered window. I felt brief sympathy as the blood trickled down his face, but I turned back to the task at hand soon enough as a cutting hex flew past my ear. I turned back to Tyson.

A smug look flitted over Tyson's twisted face. With an abstract flourish of his wand and a murmured incantation he shot a grey curse towards me. It travelled at an incredible rate. I ducked instinctively but the spell swerved downwards and hit me smack between the eyes. I dropped to my knees on the plush carpet and held my face in my hands as I willed the burning to stop. I vaguely registered hearing Andy holler a curse strong enough to knock someone out. It hurt so much that I thought I was going to throw up. The searing pain around my eyes made me think that my flesh was being boiled.

In my pain ridden state, I managed to hear footsteps making their way towards me. I clenched my eyes shut and waited for Tyson to inflict more pain, but it never came. Instead I heard Andy let out a stream of obscenities followed by some counter-curses. Through my blurry vision, I saw Andy peering over my hunched form on the floor. As the pain started to disperse, I listened more carefully. I made out something that sounded like "Alastor is going to murder me".

If my mentor couldn't sort it out, then there was no hope at all really.

"Andy? Get Mad-Eye," I mumbled, feeling pathetic at how weak I felt. I pulled my hands away from my face and tried to scan the area. Then I nearly screamed. I could not see anything! I was blind! Totalitarian horror spun over me. I bit my lip and tried not to howl like a child.

"Tyson is out cold and I've sent a patronus for Alastor," Andy reported calmly. "I will now release Ralf, with your permission?"

I gave a grunt of approval and muttered something about putting a body-bind on Tyson. I heard Ralf let out a sigh of relief. I faintly register him crawling over to me and speaking. I can't understand a word he's saying. He might as well be speaking Dutch for all I know. No matter, he's making my head pound. I wish he would stop talking. As if he read my mind, he falls silent.

"Nymphadora?" Came Mad-Eye's gruff voice.

"Sir – hit by Tyson's curse and blinded," I intoned, feeling relief sweep through me. I felt Mad-Eye's calloused hand brush over my face and eyes. I put my hand up to rub my sightless eyes and give a sob as I realise that there are no eyes there to feel. I then shook myself and tried again. Again I rubbed my fingers over the tender flesh, but I couldn't find my eyes. I felt numb with horror. Being blind is one thing, but having no eyes to heal is another.

"Just keep calm, Tonks," Mad- Eye told me roughly. I resisted the urge to spew an unmentionable string of curses that would put Andy to shame. Mad-Eye pulled me over his rugged shoulder and carried me outside, away from the anti-apparition wards before side-long apparating to St. Mungos.

X.X.X

I awoke to hear the nurse whispering quickly under her breath. I caught the words 'seriously', 'werewolf' and 'unacceptable'. I pulled myself into a sitting position, wincing at my sore joints. I guessed right away that I was in St. Mungo's hospital. The crisp sheets were tucked tightly around me and I could smell the antiseptic smell which seemed common to all hospitals.

I heard a low chuckle not far from my left which certainly did not belong to Mad-Eye. In fact, I was quite sure Mad-Eye wasn't around at all. I cast my head around anxiously, trying to find the source of the laughter. There was hash, loud breathing also on my left, which I ignored as an unlikely laugher. I couldn't see anything though so I gave up and sunk down in the bed.

"It's… okay. Alastor… told me… to… keep an…eye on …you," the voice from my left gasped. Each space was filled with a few short, laborious puffs as the guy tried to unsuccessfully catch his breath. I presumed it must be the same poor person who sounded like they were breathing through a funnel. I did not recognise the voice, at least not with the laboured breathing. I turned to face the voice.

"Um… I'm sorry. I can't see you, just who are you again?" I asked loudly in the direction I thought he was.

"Remus… Lupin…" the guy responded.

That rang a bell. It was the man I had interviewed last week on account of the unexpected were-wolf Auror case. I gave him a nod. That would explain what the nurse were tittering about. I heard slow, unsteady foot-steps make their way towards my bed. There was a relieved gasp as I heard him sit at the bed-side chair which Mad-Eye had earlier occupied.

"Wotcher," I greeted him again, cheerfully.

"Hey, Alastor also… told me… to… tell… you that… several infamous… spell…technicians had… a look… at your… eyes… and were… baffled. He… said he'd contacted… Severus Snape… famous… potion master and… expert at… dark curses to… take a… look at… the curse…" Lupin finally finished.

A smile lit up my face, I was sure I was glowing.

"Great. If anyone can sort it out then it'll be Snape," I said enthusiastically. I could almost feel Lupin's surprise radiating off of him. I knew my reaction may not be standard for meeting the Potions Master, but we had some shared history. Back when I was a Hogwarts first year…

_It was my first week in Hogwarts and I was just settling in. My robes were much larger than I was, providing 'growing room' and my books and equipment were second hand. It had been a hard year for my family, and consequently my parents didn't have the money to buy me everything I could ever need. But I was packed up with advice and love. However soon I was called half-blood freak. I was the girl whose hair couldn't keep the same shade for more than half an hour. The transition had upset my metamorphmagus abilities and I felt terrible about it, although Professor McGonagall had briskly informed me that she'd had pupils do far stranger things in their first weeks._

_I was headed to the school library to do some research into why my hair – and other features – kept changing and when I ran into some Gryffindor boys. Suffice it to say, they did not appreciate my presence in their territory and decided to punish me. These boys didn't know enough spells to hurt me well enough and so decided to beat me up the muggle way. Within a few minutes, my face was bruised, my lip cut, my eye swollen, and my back pierced by a handy pin. They left me lying on the gritty floor, battered and too broken inside to even cry out._

_And who should find me, about ten minutes later, once my blood had begun to stain the brown linoleum, but the newly instated Potions Master. He was strolling quickly, his black robes billowing out behind him, when he saw me on the floor and stopped. He visibly paled and knelt at my side asking me what had happened. I was in no state to answer. He uttered a series of healing charms until I was able to move and talk._

_In the typical first year way, I was astonishingly polite and respectful towards him. The Potion Master seemed to like my awed courtesy, and unlike some soft-skinned first years his stinging comments didn't bother me. My mother was from Slytherin and I was used to her sarcastic stabbing and knew that there was often affection behind it. _

_Professor Snape helped me to the hospital wing and kept an eye on me. Later, I found out that he'd made Barty Crouch Jr. and his associates pay dearly for their assault on me and they, in turn, told stories about how mean he was._

_They called him names, each more insulting and degrading than the last. Professor Snape dealt with them again and again, doling out detention after detention until they had branded him the Bad Guy of the entire school. Personally I thought that they deserved every single thing, every snarky comment, and every hour scrubbing cauldrons that he gave them. They were the kind of boys that happily beat up girls for having hair that changed colour or Ravenclaw boys for having a broad Yorkshire accent. They were the sons of rich pureblood families; they had never put up with unhappy parents or second-hand books. Besides, Professor Snape had something about him that commanded respect, in the same way that Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall did._

I tried to blink. I reached up to rub my eyes, and instead found a soft velvet blindfold. Clever nurses to stop me from causing more damage to myself.

"Um… hello?" Lupin ventured hesitantly.

"Sorry, what did you say? I drifted off there for a second," I apologized.

What was getting into me? Drifting off to think of an unpleasant and faraway memory whose scars had all healed was in fact pointless – not to mention close to irrelevant at present.

"Do you… really… want me to repeat… myself?" Lupin asked in a weary voice. I thought I heard another low chuckle, but it was hard to tell.

"If you want me to have a clue what you're on about, then I do," I responded cheerfully.

"Well I… said that…"

Lupin trailed off as I heard sharp footsteps marching over to my part of the ward. Clearly, the nurse had stopped her incessant chitchat and realised that I was talking to the werewolf they were so bothered about. I listened as she stomped to the foot of my bed. I almost imagined her scowl.

"Auror Tonks?" she prompted primly, her voice a high monotone.

"Right here, Nurse," I said with forced cheeriness. I gave her my best approximation of a grimace, although I couldn't see what direction she had come from.

"Are you aware who you were talking to? Was this _man_ bothering you?" she inquired in a clipped tone. I suppressed the urge to scream at her. People like her annoy me beyond any reasonable measure.

"I am perfectly aware that I am talking with Remus J. Lupin, Nurse. Thank you very much. We are having a discussion," I said, in a 'don't test me' tone that has set convicts trembling in their boots. The nurse gave an indignant huff and stomped off again. I flashed a grin in Lupin's direction, though I thought it came out as more of a grimace.

"You… didn't have to… defend me. If… you want me… to go, then… just say," He said, resigned. I wanted to roll my eyes so badly at that moment, but no one would have seen it anyway.

"Mr Lupin, its fine. She was the one who was out of order, not you. Besides, I'm guessing Mad-Eye put you on duty to keep an eye on me, and Mad-Eye only trusts the best," I said securely.

Silence.

"Sorry… forgot you… couldn't see… me nod," Lupin said more jovially.

"What does my face look like?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me. I wanted to know what my current morph was like.

"You have… a blue… blindfold… over your eyes… otherwise you're as… enchanting as… ever," Lupin replied, his voice momentarily taking on an earnest tone. I was touched that he thought I was enchanting; most men just thought I was overly conspicuous with my often neon hair.

"What colour is my hair? If I take the blindfold off, will you tell me how my eyes look?" I probed.

"Your hair is… brown. About the… blindfold- no… idea."

I cringed at the realisation that my hair had returned to its genetic foundation. I pulled the covering off of my eyes carefully, and heard a sharp intake of breath at my side. I was obviously not a pretty sight.

"Skin has… grown over… your eyes… It looks sore," Lupin said carefully. I pulled the sash back over my eyes quickly and reminded myself to take things one step at a time.

"Why are you cursed, Mr Lupin?" I asked lightly, hoping to distract him with a more cheerful topic. Needless to say, I failed dismally. I heard a tired sigh mixed in with his wheezing. The resigned tone was there again.

"I ran into… some people in… the Wizarding …Park in… London with… the opinion that… I should not… be there… with… them. They were… not happy …with my …presence and …decided to resolve …the issue …by making …sure I wouldn't… be going …for a jog… for some time."

I once again felt the urge to scream. That was the biggest load of rubbish ever, and it was covering up an unbelievably awful fact. Remus Lupin had been punished for visiting the park- for existing.

"That's the most eloquently worded load of rubbish I've ever heard, Mr Lupin. Whoever they are, they are fantastically stupid for hexing someone for purely existing," I said angrily.

Just then there was a familiar slight cough at the other side of my bed. I recognised it immediately.

"I must agree. _Mr Lupin_, do you?" Snape asked icily. He had said Lupin's with such suppressed anger that I would have stepped back, had I not been reclined on the hospital bed.

"Professor Snape!" I greeted him enthusiastically. I couldn't hear his footsteps at all. Snape was notorious at Hogwarts for moving soundlessly, however, so that didn't surprise me. I tensed as gentle hands untied the bandage over my eyes. I heard Lupin move away, presumably at Snape's wordless dismissal. I was caught off guard as Snape gave a low hiss through his teeth and a fingertip ran over my 'eyes'.

"Whoever cursed you was very creative, Nymphadora," he told me, his low baritone hushed. "They've played on your metamorphmagus talents and used them to blind you."

"But how does he know? Arnold Tyson shouldn't know ANYTHING about me!" I cried out, slightly hysterical. Snape sighed dramatically.

"What you should be asking now, Miss Tonks, is can I sort it?" He reprimanded sternly. "Like a typical Hufflepuff!" I feigned annoyance and stuck my lower lip out.

"Well, someone has to be the Hufflepuff and get told off!" I huffed. I was sure that if I could have used my eyes, I would see the corners of his lips twitching.

"The point is, Miss Tonks, I can sort it. You may be blind for a few days, but I'll sort it in the end." I gave him a smile. "I invented a spell for shifting flesh a few years ago. With a careful application of that twice a day, we can free up the skin, so hopefully you can shift it yourself using a morph in the end." I nodded; this sounded plausible.

"So, is it only you that knows the spell?" I asked, confirming.

"Why, Miss Tonks? Do you not want to see me every day?" Snape queried smoothly. I realise that he's made a faux pas of his guilt-trip considering that I can't _see _anything at all.

"I would love to _see _you now, Sir!" I responded merrily.

"Yes, that's very droll, Miss Tonks." he said in a humourless tone. "I shall start now. You may feel pins and needles, but I think I am well-practiced enough not to cause any pain." I feel a shaking hand wipe over my 'eyes' and pull back, worried.

"Are you alright, Sir?" I questioned seriously.

"Perfectly. Why do you ask?" He responded sharply.

"You're hand's shaking pretty badly. You hate shaky hands, especially when performing spell-work," I said gently. I remembered being lectured on the virtues of having steady hands many times in Hogwarts as well as the dangers around wobbly spells.

He coughed uncomfortably.

"I am not myself. I'm sorry," he apologised. Icicles were forming in Hell at this exact minute. It's almost ridiculous that Professor Snape apologised. I casually pretended to scratch my arm and pinched myself. I wasn't dreaming.

"I know this isn't a normal request, but could you please alter your morph?" he requests. I was shocked at this as well. Snape had never had any problems with my accidental morphing.

"What am I like now?" I query, trying to form a mental image. Normally, if I couldn't remember my hair colour, I would just grow it long enough and take a look – getting a mental image speeds up morphing.

"You have long, red hair and ivory skin," he responds, pained. I nod.

A second later, I turned my naturally red locks to pink and making them short. I didn't want it to get caught in the spell. I proceeded to give myself a mild tan and slightly smaller nose for good measure.

"Is this better?" I asked, adopting a patient tone. I remembered a muggle photograph of a young, redheaded girl that once fell out of Snape's pocket.

"Much, shall we begin?" Snape said, briskly shaking off his previous concern. I nodded.

I felt the tip of his wand slowly trace my face as he murmured a sequence of counter curses and words from Latin. Frankly, I was impressed at the depth of his study. I had always known that he was a genius, but creating spells really takes the biscuit as far as cleverness goes.

Eventually, he finished. He gave me the usual cold farewell and swept away from my bed. His footsteps now echoed throughout the ward like he was too tired to walk silently. I heard him stop a few beds down from mine. His voice was tauter than normal, as though something pained him. I eavesdropped shamelessly.

"Lupin! Mad-Eye insisted I bring you a potion to relieve that curse you've got on you – something about him owing you a favour. Here it is, take it once a day for four days. And stay away from Nymphadora," he instructed, much to my puzzlement. The last thing I heard him murmur was, "It's nice to see that karma does come back around." Before I curled up on the narrow bed and fell asleap.

_I am attached to my desk swivel-chair, spinning around until I'm really dizzy. Professor Snape is attacking Arnold Tyson on Shaklebolt's desk and Mad-Eye is dancing to the Weird Sisters in the corner. Remus Lupin shakes hands with Cassidy, a transfer Auror terrified of werewolves, and my mum kisses my Aunt Narcissa. Aunt Bellatrix is giving roses to my beloved little muggle cousin. I jolt away from my mum's cousin, Sirius (convicted mass murder), as he reaches out to dance with me like he used to do when I was a little girl._

With the massive jolt I awake to find myself on the cold floor. I began to take steady breaths, trying to calm my racing heartbeat.

I had no idea what I would have done if I hadn't woken up. Would I have advanced towards Sirius and ripped his head off for what he did? Or would I have attacked Arnold for leaving me blind? Or Bellatrix for being a sick torturer? Or Narcissa for turning away from my mum ?

No sooner had I steadied my breath, I feel the in shock at the horrendous dream and the so far steady, loud breathing of Remus begins to stir.

I covered my mouth with my hand and turned over on the hard floor.

_I felt myself become drawn into a FLASHBACK. Sirius was smiling at my three year old self. My hair was a sickly yellow-green, the colour it used to take on when I was feeling ill as a child. I was curled up at his side on the squishy red sofa at home, watching muggle TV. Currently, _Bill and Ben the Flower-Pot Men_ was playing for the second time that day. I loved watching muggle TV when I was unwell; Sirius, however, seemed to find it all very tiring and kept nodding off._

_This was the second day Sirius was watching me. Every half-hour, before I started whining that my arms itched, he would put cream on my chickenpox scabs, gently soothing them and me at the same time. I wasn't really as happy as I seemed, watching the telly and being totally oblivious. I was a clever kid. I had realised there had to be a reason why my parents had left me at home with my teenaged cousin while I was ill, but at the time I had no idea why._

_Later, once I was cuddled up with blankets and half asleep on my side, I remembered hearing Sirius leave the sofa and let some people in. The FLASHBACK draws to a close_

I was shaking; not only with cold, but also with shock. Why was I remembering something I'd left buried as far back as I could? Why now? I gave a wobbly sob. I really did not want to remember memories from so long ago, from during the war.

_The FLASHBACK continued. I listened as people moved almost silently around the room. It sounded like there were one or two other people around._

_"Here she is. Nymphie's got chickenpox."_

_"Poor kid," there was a hoarse whisper on my left. I struggled to keep still while on the receiving end of sympathy from someone I didn't recognise. "What happened to her parents again?"_

_"You know Ted's muggleborn. He got attacked- he was jumped as they took Nymphie to the park and cursed right in front of her. She can't remember anything about it. It's called a repressed memory, I think. Andromeda was so sure that Bellatrix was behind it that she went to find her. Long story short, they're both going to be in St. Mungo's for at least a week," Sirius explained gravely. I took some of this in, on an infant's level. Essentially, I thought that Mum and Dad had gotten hurt and that they were in hospital. I knew of St. Mungo's as I had needed to go there a few weeks earlier, after I had picked up a pretty ball at the park that made me throw up violently. I didn't like that Mummy and Daddy had gotten hurt, and I started to cry. The FLASHBACK jarred away._

I couldn't stand it anymore. These memories were meant to be safely locked away in a part of my mind I never wanted to see. It seemed so unfair that I had to see these things all over again. Most were painful enough first time around. Sirius was a wretched rat; if I ever got my hands on him, I would make him pay. I would make him pay for what he did to my Mum. She trusted him, thought he was the greatest thing since she met Dad. When he turned out to be such a loser, it broke her willpower for a while. At the time, it had seemed like the world was going to end. Listening to your parent discuss things too adult for you to hear, listening to your mother cry is hard for anyone- especially as an innocent eight year old kid. My own world certainly stopped for a while, at any rate. I might have just been a kid, but that didn't mean I didn't feel the pain of war.

I sobbed hopelessly for a second, my hands clamped over my mouth. The ward was close to silent. I could hear Lupin's heavy breathing at one side and a snoring person at the other. I thought it must have been night, but I still couldn't see anything. I could almost imagine the swirling blackness of night around me. I've spent half my life trying to escape my Black heritage, yet it still surrounds my past, veiling my childhood in fear and suspense. My sobs grew louder as I became more and more wound up.

I shut up when I heard somebody stir across the ward. At that moment I heard the creaking of a bed, or more specifically, somebody leaving their bed. I heard Lupin's terse breathing come closer and I pushed myself under the hospital bed in the hope that he wouldn't spot me. I stopped breathing and tried to become invisible. Lupin sighed quietly as he knelt down near me. I realised that this probably looked really odd; a girl hiding under her hospital bed. He put his hands in mine. They were warm and rough compared to mine, which were like ice. He pulled me up and carefully set me on the hospital bed.

"Tonks? What's wrong?"

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